


Baa...Hummer

by kittenofdoomage



Series: The Twelve Days Of Kinkmas 2017 [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Job, Christmas, F/M, Fluff, Oral Sex, Romance, Sex, Sex Dreams, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 12:20:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13099992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: John isn’t a fan of Christmas… so you decide to add a little rum to that egg nog, and give him a little treat.





	Baa...Hummer

It had been a long ass day. John was sat in the large armchair in the living room, watching the fire with a glazed over look in his eyes. His dislike of the holiday season was no secret, and he voiced it frequently, but today, he’d put that aside for the sake of his family. Sam and his wife Jennifer had come over with their two boys, and Dean had popped in with Stephanie, all of them crowding into the small dining room for a Christmas Eve dinner.

Now, it was 8pm and you were finally finished clearing up. You’d arranged for today rather than spend tomorrow with excitable children, and John was grateful for that. This year, for the first time, it was you and John, and no one else.

“Babe,” you started, sticking your head around the living room door, “do you want some eggnog?”

“Is there alcohol in it?” John replied, not looking in your direction, his eyes still focused on the fire.

“Of course,” you grinned, and he chuckled.

“Yeah, I’ll have a glass.” With a swift nod, you returned to the kitchen, pouring out two glasses of the rich nog, before adding more rum than was probably necessary. Carrying them through, you placed both on the table, and went to sit on the couch adjacent to John’s armchair, but he coughed, shaking his head. “There’s a warm seat right here for you, sweetheart,” he drawled, and you felt the blush in your cheeks. His hand grabbed yours, tugging you closer, and you sank into his lap, looping your arms around his shoulders.

“What’s brought this on?”

John laughed, looking up at you, scratching his beard briefly. “I hate Christmas. Almost as much as I hate Thanksgiving.”

“You hate anything that involves you being social,” you commented, smiling as you said it, taking his fingers away from the thick hair on his chin. “But I accept that as part of your charm.”

He hummed at that, amusement in his eyes, and he shook his head a little. “I don’t know why you put up with me.”

Stretching out, you curled into him, resting your head on his shoulder. “Because I love you.” The fire crackled and spat as it found a dry log, and John sighed heavily. “You’re a humbug, John, no doubt, but you’re also one hell of a guy. I mean, you raised those boys on your own -” He huffed at that, and you knew he was going to point out his own flaws again. “Don’t make that noise at me. They’re good men, and that’s down to you. Look at Sam and Jenn. Raising two sons of their own, Sam’s a lawyer, and Dean… turning his attitude around wasn’t easy.”

“I had help,” John grumbled, dragging his eyes away from you. “Bobby, Pastor Jim -”

“But  _ you’re _ their dad. Even after you lost Mary, and most people wouldn’t blame you for giving up at that point,” you paused, gripping his chin and forcing him to look at you, “but you kept going. You’re amazing, John Winchester.”

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured, pulling you a little closer, kissing you softly, the scruff of his beard rubbing against your skin. “Not in a million years should you have to put up with my Grinch ass.”

“I’ll put up with your ass any time - it’s a nice ass.” You smiled, nuzzling your nose against his. “I love you. I’m lucky I got to be part of the Winchester family.” Pulling back, you reached out for a glass of eggnog, handing it to him. “Now, drink this, get in the Christmas spirit, and maybe you’ll get your present.”

John’s left eyebrow darted up as he slipped his fingers around the glass, taking it from you. “Presents? Maybe I can get on board with this Christmas thing.” You laughed, sliding out of his lap, dropping to your knees between the both of his. “Hmmm, what are you up to?” He sipped at the nog, wincing at the sheer amount of rum you’d put it in. “Fuck, that’s strong.”

Your fingers curled around his belt, slowly unbuckling it. “Yeah it is. Just how you like it.” He sucked in a breath, watching you toy with the fastenings of his pants. “Have you been a good boy this year, John?”

“Does it make a difference if I was?” he shot back, challenging you, and you grinned, shaking your head. “Well, then I guess it’s half and half. Do I still get my present?” The only answer you gave was the lowering of his zipper, and John groaned when your fingers slipped around him, pumping his length slowly as you pulled it free from his pants. “Goddamn, I love you.”

The first touch of your tongue against his sensitive tip made John grunt, one hand curling around the edge of the armrest as the other clung to his half-finished glass of eggnog. You kept your eyes on him, sucking him between your lips with ease, keeping the pace slow and steady, just enough to tease him. A few moments of that, and he was practically growling.

You didn’t expect him to push you away, sending you to the floor. “Lay down and get those pants off,” he ordered, dropping his glass onto the table. When you didn’t do as he asked quickly enough, he was there, strong hands ripping your pants down your legs, tossing them to the side. “I want you naked,” John snarled, kneeling between your thighs with his cock jutting from his pants. “Now.”

This time, it didn’t take you seconds to obey, and you dragged your top over your head, plucking your bra undone, and when you were bare to his gaze, John licked his lips, leaning over you and tracing one finger under the swell of your breast.

“All mine,” he whispered, possessively.

“All yours,” you agreed, the words a croak in your dry throat. “John -”

“Sssh,” he replied, frowning. “You wanna give me a Christmas present, baby?” You nodded, watching him crawl down your body. “All I want is you sweet little pussy in my mouth.” His sentence had barely finished before his tongue was lapping at your folds, the scratch of his beard against your sensitive skin making you gasp and shudder. John was not a shy lover - when he gave it to you, he gave it all.

“John -” you cried out, reached down to clutch at his short hair with your shaking fingers. “John - I’m…” God, your entire body was vibrating like you’d been set to high speed. Like the world around you was trembling with the force of your pleasure and -

*****

John stomped his boots off on the stone entryway, knocking snow all over the mat. A strange, high-pitched whine caught his attention and he frowned, dropped the pile of wood he’d been chopping for the fire into the basket, before searching out the source of the noise.

You were asleep under the thick fur blanket on the sofa, the one he’d given you for Christmas last year, and there was a twisted look on your face that he’d seen many times before. Whatever you were dreaming about, it was undeniably pleasurable, and John smirked, running his hand through his beard, feeling his cock stir at the thought of you having dirty dreams.

“Baby girl,” he murmured, briefly touching your foot before leaning down at your side. “You’re dreaming.” There was no response, just more sexy noises, and he could see now, that your hand was moving under the covers. “Goddamn, horny are we?” He chuckled, grasping your shoulder. “Wake up, baby girl, and I’ll make that dream real.”

He shook you a little, and your eyes snapped open, confusion immediately visible on your face, before you realized where you were… and what your hand was doing between your legs. “John?”

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart. What were you dreaming about?” His tone was full of mirth, and he bent down to kiss you softly. “I was only outside for thirty minutes.”

“Guess I’m a little tired from last night,” you replied, smiling coyly. “I mean, we didn’t get to the actual bed until very late.” John smirked, his hand moving under the warm blanket. “John, you’re freezing!”

“Tongue is still warm, baby,” he whispered. “And I’m guessing you were replaying our little nog adventure while you were sleeping? Did I leave an impression?” His fingers were brushing over the seam of your jeans now, and you squeaked, following it up with a gasp.

“Several,” you grunted, tugging on his plaid flannel, desperate for more. You were never going to get enough of John Winchester, that was for sure. “Need you.” John groaned, not fighting you one bit as you dragged him down for a kiss. 

“You got me,” he assured you. “And not just for Christmas.”


End file.
